


Convalescence

by sunshinechildskywalker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Darth Vader Lives, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, Vader lives AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:33:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28914675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinechildskywalker/pseuds/sunshinechildskywalker
Summary: When his father discovers his most guarded secret buried deep within his weary soul, Luke Skywalker may finally have to face his demons.One year post-Rotj AU
Relationships: Firmus Piett & Darth Vader, Han Solo & Darth Vader, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Han Solo
Comments: 20
Kudos: 77





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! First of all, I want to make this warning very clear, as I don’t want anyone to become hurt or upset by this piece:
> 
> ***This fic has mentions and descriptions of sexual assault and self-harm.*** If anything of this nature triggers you, I implore you to be the best advocate for yourself and tread carefully.
> 
> Second, I have more detailed warnings in the ending author’s note, but I just wanted to make this part crystal clear so you can make the informed choice of whether or not to consume this material.
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for checking this out! Please let me know what you think in kudos and reviews!

“Father?” Luke asked, lightly rapping his knuckles on the doorframe. Unable to even bite out an invitation to enter, Vader stood on his personal balcony, his tightening grip on the railing daring to compete with the strength of durasteel.

“Are you alright?” Damn him, Vader thought. How dare he shift the concern at a time like this? How could he possibly? At this moment, he could only loathe how much the boy took after his mother’s altruism.

Vader felt the boy approach closer, stepping out onto the balcony alongside him. Anxiety built upon curiosity in Luke’s Force presence, making for a flurry of unasked questions he could feel he was only barely managing to hold back.

“What’s going on?”

Angling his head away, setting his jaw, Vader sighed as much as his respirator would allow.

“Luke,” he managed, forcing his tone to be somewhat even. “I must know I have your full honesty.”

“Of course, Father,” Luke said, a thread of astonishment in his words. “What makes you think you wouldn’t?” Vader curled his fingers around the railing even tighter, practically bending the metal. How was he to do this? How was _anyone_ in this twisted galaxy supposed to approach their child about this? Yes, there were parenting manuals, guide books, and even damn classes on how to properly raise a child, but there was no such teaching method that explained how to ask your child something of this nature.

“Father?”

He couldn’t look at him. Force, he could not bear to lay eyes on the boy.

“Please, talk to me.” Another sharp pang resounded deep within his core as he was once again painfully reminded of his late wife.

He sighed once more, emitting closer to a growl from his vocabulator. If he could just form the words…

“Son,” he began, fixating his gaze the direct opposite way from the recipient of his message. Vader ducked his head as he fought the biggest, tangled mess of unrecognizable emotion he had felt in a long time.

At a speed that made banthas seem like speed demons, the former Dark Lord managed to turn towards his son.

“Look at me and assure me you were not assaulted on the Hoth base.”

Eyes widened, muscles tensed, and breathing stopped; yet somehow Luke maintained his composure.

Twisting his features into an accusatory brand of anger, Luke swept his gaze over his father.

“Well, of course we were assaulted! Don’t you remember ambushing our base? Shooting down our men and wiping out hundreds?”

It was now Vader’s turn to bristle even more, but he couldn’t say he didn’t expect the boy to react in such a way.

“You know exactly what I am asking,” Vader countered, his voice dropping down to a hiss. “Do not deflect me.” Luke’s features twisted to display an even deeper anger, although the flicker in his blue eyes gave away a hint of fear.

“No, I don’t know,” he insisted, although his eyes cried differently. “Say it.”

Amid any other challenge, Vader would have done nothing less than stiffen his spine, lean into his opponent, and spit his venom until he was certain he’d won, but this was unlike any other confrontation he’d had. All Vader could do was stare at the boy now, praying to the Force with all his remaining energy that this was all a mistake, and for once, that he was wrong.

“Luke, assure me you were not…sexually assaulted.”

His flinch was hardly detectable, but was certainly visible to Vader as those dreaded words hung in the air. The boy tried so hard to maintain eye contact, even lifting his chin defiantly for a second, but he remained silent. Then, Vader spotted the moisture glistening in his eyes, but before neither father nor son could say a word, Luke took half a step back, turned away, and retreated from the balcony.

And that was all the answer Vader needed.

~~~

It took Vader every ounce of strength remaining within him to refrain from immediately seeking out his son. Although still growing re-accustomed to physical affection, Vader couldn’t shake the seemingly instinctual need to hold the boy in his arms, to keep him shielded from any further harm.

Or would Luke recoil, finding himself in the arms of the one who had caused him the most harm of all?

Midst their year spent together on this backwater planet, Vader thought he had begun to understand what it meant to be a father, but after today, he wasn't sure. 

Even though Vader knew logically he had nothing to do with this attack, nor would he have had a good chance of preventing it, his paternal instincts screamed that there must have been _something_ he should have been able to do. If only he would have found the boy sooner, arrived on Hoth even mere days earlier than he had, he just might have stopped this. Even if he had, at the very least, found him after the assault, he could have provided him with the finest medical care from _The Executor_ , found him the most effective counseling, and ensured no one laid a finger on him ever again. Although the damage had been done, at least Vader now had a chance to compensate for his failure.

But how?

How was he to fix this? What could he possibly say to ease his child’s pain? He could feed Luke the reassurances required, take whatever measures necessary to ensure no one could so much as touch him ever again, but he knew nothing could erase the trauma. If only _she_ were here...

Such a creative method the muses had used to torture the boy yet again.

Vader was lucky he found that medical report leading to this new discovery in the first place. If Luke hadn’t been sniffling the past few days, Vader never would have dug into his medical file, much less found it had been tampered with.

Reading through the reports timed a little before the Battle of Hoth, Vader immediately sensed something out of place when he found a perfect post-bacta immersion scan void of any injury whatsoever. The bacta may have been effective in healing Luke’s hypothermia and the gashes from the Wampa, but he shouldn’t have been completely healed from just a single immersion without concentrated care on his flesh wounds- no one would.

As Vader followed a whisper from the Force to investigate further, he eventually found an encrypted log of the report. It was only a matter of minutes before he maneuvered his way to full access, finding pages upon pages of deleted material. Among the scrapped information, he found reports of small wounds that weren’t fully healed yet here and there, which was to be expected. However, an entire section detailing injuries that stated “consistent with sexual assault,” was not only the very last thing Vader expected to see, but the very worst.

The question Vader supposed he should focus his attention on now that could at least be of some value, was who. Who, regardless of state of mind, could have done this to another creature? Not only inflicting such pain and fear in the moment of the attack, but imprinting a permanent mark of terror and shame for the rest of the victim’s life.

Vader wished he could have said he ended the suffering of his victims with a swift slice of his crimson blade, but he knew he left a lasting impression on his surviving prey, guaranteed to last them until the end of their days. This regard for the lives of others never once crossed his mind during his rampages of murder, but now that his son was on the receiving end of such pain, the parental instincts stirring in his core led him to feel this forgien, protective nature amplify.

But the cold truth remained: Vader _had_ caused Luke such pain as his other victims. He was not the boy’s enemy, but his father; the man who not only should have been present in his childhood, but should have loved him unconditionally regardless for which side of the war he fought.

Although he was fortunate enough to have Luke’s undeserved forgiveness, he was still haunted by the images of the boy on the receiving end of his ruthless power. The way his petite form trembled on the weathervane above Cloud City, his thinly veiled courage as Vader brought him before Palpatine, and the terrible screams that escaped his throat as he writhed on the stone cold floor of the throne room, desperate pleas barely articulated through the pain.

All Vader could do now was reach out to the Force and persuade it to draw away some of his guilt. Once he found himself in a stable enough position, he reached for his datapad in his quarters and began trying to educate himself on the matter of sexual assault survivors. After searches varying from “caring for a distressed child” to “supporting a new child” came up with hardly accurate results for his situation (even though Luke _was_ a child), he finally settled on a simple search on male sexual assault recovery, and went from there…

Force, Vader wished he knew what this aggressor _thought_ Vader was going to do to him, for once he found him, he would do far worse.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thank you for continuing to read! Please refer to the trigger warnings and disclaimers in the previous chapter's author's notes.
> 
> Enjoy!!!

As expected, Vader found the boy leaning against the railing of his own balcony later that night, the weight of the entire galaxy seeming to press down upon his small form. 

“You want a real answer?” Luke said, not even sparing a greeting nor a tossed glance behind his shoulder. Vader took the most tentative steps toward him, not straying far from the doorway. 

“You know I already have it.” Luke bowed his head, releasing a drawn out sigh. 

“Well, are you here to corner me again?” he snapped, that Skywalker anger flaring in his Force presence. Vader took half a step backwards to give the boy a little more room and to disprove his remark, that guilty weight only pressing harder into the pit of his stomach. It was now Vader’s turn to bow his own head.

“I...realize I could have handled that differently,” he confessed, his words considered an apology if one turned their head and squinted. 

“Or you could have just let me come to you,” Luke volleyed back, the previous malice in his words dulling into something that tasted like defeat. 

“Would you have?” Despite the guilt only pressing harder into his core as he heard the tone of his son’s voice, Vader couldn’t say he regretted bringing this up. The method of communicating it, a regretful mistake, but he knew full well the boy would not have shown his need for help.

“I did once, didn’t I?” He asked, referring to their meeting on the forest moon, seeming almost a lifetime ago.

“When you were not the one in need, son.”

“I don’t  _ need _ anything,” he insisted bitterly. He released another heavy sigh, almost for a fresh start. “It’s in my past, I’ve put it behind me. Just let it go.” Vader tried taking another step, aching to stand closer to the boy’s side. 

“You know I cannot follow such a request.” The boy angled his head away, visibly setting his jaw. A tense silence hung that almost put the howling infinite vacuum of space to shame. 

“You didn’t probe my mind,” Luke finally pointed out, offering something besides mournful evening bird calls to the silence. 

The boy had a point, but not only did Vader wish to avoid such methods in fear of whispering a beckoning call to his previous powers, but he wouldn’t take that from Luke. He had already been violated far worse than Vader could ever comprehend.

“That is not something I would take from you, Luke.” A scoff passed Luke’s lips, followed by a head shake to complete the package of sarcastic disbelief. 

“Then what would you call our last conversation?”

“Unfinished.” 

Another beat of heavy silence hung tense, and Vader could sense Luke reinforce his mental shields. Vader felt a pang of bitter irony echo in his core as he observed the boy, noting how such a small being could face such massive forces. Although this observation seemed worthy of pride, Vader only felt regret. 

Finally, Luke shook his head, still having yet to look at Vader. 

“There’s nothing we can do, Father,” he said, that awfully familiar tone of defeat seeming to weigh even heavier upon his words. 

As Vader took another tentative step towards the boy, he noticed his small hand pressing vehemently against the rough stone of the balcony, the weight applied far too hard to be unintentional. He knew physically restraining the boy would only agitate him further (for, although loathe to admit it, Luke was very much his son in that aspect...and hers). Although it took all the extra energy Vader had to stop himself from seizing Luke’s arm and putting an immediate halt to his pain, he opted for a more gentle action.

With careful movements that would lead onlookers to believe he feared the boy would shatter under his touch, Vader rested his gloved hand upon his son’s now-bleeding, delicate flesh. If his respirator allowed, Vader would have held his breath in anticipation of the boy’s reaction, but he released his tension as Luke didn’t immediately recoil. Although the boy continued to pointedly avoid his gaze, this was a significant step. 

“There still remain open wounds, son.” He was surprised not to feel the boy tense immediately, but instead seemed to deflate, looking unbearably tired. Force, had the boy acquiesced? Of course Vader was grateful for his compliance, but this divergence of character was more than concerning, speaking to the amount of damage he had sustained. But he couldn’t be certain yet. 

“Luke, if you allow me this one occasion, I will never ask anything of you ever again,” Vader said, his deep baritone reverberating through the air and seeming to slice through the dull background chatter of the woodland creatures. 

“What?”

“Let me help you.” Vader found himself almost relieved when Luke broke away from his touch, for it proved he still harbored some of that spiteful spirit. He shook his head.

“I...I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Vader insisted. “You must understand that.”

“But-”

“This is not a negotiation, Luke.”

Luke shook his head, his eventual response escaping as a faint whisper. 

“How?”

“Counseling, support groups, self-care techniques,” Vader listed immediately, stepping closer. “Any support you desire.” Luke was quiet for a long moment while Vader prayed to the Force the boy was considering his offer. He didn’t need a clear connection with Luke’s Force presence to know the boy would argue, citing how he had been doing “just fine” without assistance thus far. 

“I once believed it was too late for me, son,” Vader reminded him, daring to gently rest a hand on his shoulder. “Until the opportunities were presented to me by one who possessed faith in me.” The reminder of what brought father and son together hung in the air, leaving the two silent.

“I need you to promise me something.” Luke finally said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Anything,” Vader responded instantly. The boy withdrew a deep breath, exhaled, and seemed to fight back tears as he finally looked at Vader.

“Keep this between us.” Vader swore he could feel his heart physically ache just a touch more at the boy’s delicate plea. He carefully ran his gloved thumb across Luke’s shoulder. 

“Anything you wish, Luke.” The boy exhaled, almost in relief, as he reached up to push away a stray bit of moisture from his eye. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, fighting a quiver in his voice. 

“What for, child?” Vader asked, although not surprised at Luke’s infuriating disregard for himself.

“I...I lied to you,” he said. The boy referred to their mutual agreement to avoid lying to one another, as Luke had been lied to far too often already in his short twenty-four years. Once the dust settled after Endor and Vader finally had the boy to himself, he promised him honesty in attempts to make up for what was lost, and Luke insisted on reciprocating. 

“That does not apply to this situation, son.”

“Yes, it-”

“Luke-”

“I should have just told you-”

“Luke-”

“How could I be so stupid?”

_ “Luke.” _ The boy finally looked up after Vader halted his needless self-berating. “You cannot punish yourself like this.”

“But I-”

“No, I will not allow it.” Luke grew silent for a while.

“Please speak to me,” Vader implored gently. Luke sighed, looking out into the unending night of the forest for something unreachable. After seeming to find his answer, he swallowed prominently, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly as if no longer willing, or perhaps no longer able, to carry the weight of this burden. 

“I…” Vader recognized that slight lip quiver and offered the boy his hand, a whisper of support he remembered from his mother. Luke closed his eyes, then accepted Vader’s offer and gently held his hand. They were silent for a long moment.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Luke whispered as he dropped his gaze again, his voice husky with budding tears. Vader set a hand on Luke’s shoulder, tentatively pulling him in close. The boy begrudgingly acquiesced to the support, leaning into Vader’s armored shoulder.

“You are going to heal, Luke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!! Thank you for reading and please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings apply, please tread with care :)

As soon as a prominent drop of moisture rolled down the fogged mirror, leaving a clear reflection in its wake, Luke wished he hadn’t looked up. He didn’t recognize the figure staring back at him, for it was even more decayed than the figure he saw in the mirror after he found out the true identity of his father. His body was thinner, his typically vibrant blue eyes faded, and of course, the fiery ‘Z’ blazed on his collarbone.

Luke, of course, referred to the blaze of Ziggora, the ruthless bounty hunter who only worked for the highest of prices. However, he earned his rate, for he never failed to drag back whomever the client requested. He always completed the job, no matter what methods he had to use.

Not only was Ziggora a ruthless bounty hunter as it was, but he had...unique methods of forcing his victims to comply. Among them included brutal beatings, waterboarding, and, of course, the type of assault Luke had experienced. He was always sure to top off his brutalities with a permanent mark of his presence: the fiery ‘Z’ brand, always burned directly onto the victim’s collarbone. By marking his prey, Ziggora assured everyone in the galaxy knew what happened to his prey, and to whom they belonged.

But as cruel as Ziggora was, none of it would have mattered to Luke…

...if Vader hadn’t hired him. 

Luke traced Ziggora’s employment back to Vader during Vader's wild manhunt for Luke, seeming to take any necessary measure to find him. However, Ziggora’s sexual assaults only recently came to light, as he had sworn his victims to secrecy with the promise of death should they not comply. It was only a few standard years ago that someone came forward, revealing the assault and the red, swollen ‘Z’ on their collarbone, exactly the same mark Luke saw on himself now. 

Clearly his father didn’t know the lengths Ziggora would go to in order to find Luke, and this was, of course, not his fault by any means, but his father couldn’t know Luke had found out.  _ Force _ he couldn’t know. He was  _ sure _ his father would never forgive himself. Hells, Luke probably would never forgive  _ himself _ if Vader found out.

Luke sighed, submitting to his shame, and dared to look up again.

He didn’t know who this man was in the mirror, this  _ boy _ . He couldn’t say whether he was Luke Skywalker or not, for he didn’t know who that was anymore. A hero to some, a traitor to others, but in his core, Luke knew he was nothing. 

He wrapped a towel tightly around his waist, avoiding looking down at himself in the mirror until it physically hurt not to do so. His eyes drifted down to his collarbone, his trembling fingers not following far behind. The blazing ‘Z’ still retained its color even after these few long years. He traced the letter with his finger, foolishly hoping he could erase it with his touch. 

His eyes then drifted to his stomach’s reflection, a series of slices in a uniform row etched into his skin. The little marks of his only release, the only sensation he could feel anymore. The only thing quieting the persistent noise in his head. However, the blissful silence that accompanied the swift slices was becoming shorter and shorter as time passed. Infuriating as it was, it named itself proof that his father was right- he hit a limit he thought was farther out,  _ should _ have been farther out. 

But his father didn’t understand- Luke wouldn’t accept the help because he was “being selfless,” but because he didn’t deserve it. Luke let this happen. If he wouldn’t have gone to investigate that damn meteorite on that freezing hell of a planet, this wouldn’t have happened. Ziggora wouldn’t have found him and claimed Luke as his own. If he didn’t follow his  _ stupid _ instincts to explore, he wouldn’t be in this mess. His father would be healing as he should, free of any disruption from Luke. This interference seemed to be the case time and time again, even with his father’s denial of it. 

But he wouldn’t let this happen again, he  _ couldn’t. _ It would only slow the speed of his father’s recovery all the more. 

Luke would be fine on his own, for he had all he needed: a sharp blade.

Wait.

That was it.

On his own.

It was then that Luke realized what he needed to do.

After a moment of convincing himself this was the only way, he took a seat cross-legged on the tile floor. He inhaled deeply three times, setting himself up for meditation. However, this time he had a far different agenda than floundering for a silence he knew he would never achieve. 

Luke closed his eyes and searched for his father’s Force presence. A quick moment after locating it, as not to be detected, Luke backed out of its energy. He focused on his own presence for a moment, concentrating on his shields, feeling each and every bit of energy push together to create a barrier between his feelings and the outside world, especially his father. 

Luke focused in on every bit of energy until he felt himself start to become dizzy...

And multiplied them until his shields were indestructible, fortifying his defenses. 

No one would be getting through, especially his father.

~~~

Packed bag in hand, incredible weight in his heart, Luke suppressed a tremble as he stood outside the door to his father’s quarters. He was once again thankful he had greatly strengthened his shields on his side of the Force bond to cloak his emotion, for if their connection remained untouched, Luke would have surely woken his father with the whirlwind in his weary soul. 

He drew in a deep breath, held it, and released a slow stream of air as he began.

“Father,” he whispered, careful not to wake the man from his far too rare slumber. He sighed, bowing his head in shame behind the closed door. “I’m sorry. I...I couldn’t say it to you directly, but I had to say goodbye.”

Luke gripped the handle of his bag tighter with his prosthetic, trying to convince himself this was the correct option- this was the  _ only _ option. 

“This isn’t because of you,” he assured the durasteel door, catching a brief, unwanted flash of his reflection in the material. He turned his face away abruptly, trying to forget the stranger staring back at him. “It’s me. It’s my fault. It’s...it’s all my fault.”

Luke faught the hot tears stinging behind his eyes with a hard snap of his lids, keeping them squeezed shut as his throat began to tighten. 

“You have to understand that,” he choked out, despising the way his voice broke into a pathetic whisper. He sniffled as the raw emotion finally leaked out of his eyes. 

With one last shuddering breath, Luke laid a hand on the cool metal door, trailing his fingers down as he began to step away. 

“Goodbye, Father.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same warnings apply, please tread carefully :)

With every unbearably heavy step, Luke ticked off another reason why this was the best way- the  _ only _ way. 

_ Father doesn’t need this, _ Luke told himself.  _ He has enough on his plate already. _ With Luke gone, this will give his father more time to focus and heal properly from the decades of his own trauma. Luke’s staying would only stunt his father’s recovery. 

“Did you truly believe I didn’t suspect this previously?” Luke’s heart dropped to his stomach as he heard his father behind him. He froze, an eerie chill crawling down his spine as he remembered how ominous those words would sound if there were still in the midst of the war. Well, not that they didn't intimidate him now.   
  


Luke’s heart thudded in his chest as he grasped for not only how he was going to explain this, but how he was to carry out his plan now. He couldn’t bear to be this close to his father for another moment harboring this secret, especially knowing just how cruelly it would destroy him if he knew the full story. Simply being in his presence now chipped bits away at Luke’s soul, and he knew it was only a matter of time before nothing remained. If that went, his relationship with his father would follow not far behind. 

“I…” Wait, how could he feel him?

“You may have strengthened your shields to indestructibility, Luke, but you are still my son.” 

Wow, he really  _ was _ in his head, Force connection or not. 

Luke bowed his head, feeling both embarrassment and anger summon a blush to his cheeks. 

“Did you hear any of that?” 

“I happened to be awake, yes, but I suspected this stunt since you strengthened your shields.” 

Luke sighed, keeping his head bowed to the ground. He gripped the handle of his bag tighter. 

“Father, you have to let me do this.” 

“Luke-“

“No, please. You...you don’t understand.” Luke had to turn away- he couldn’t look at him. He was  _ sure  _ he’d cave if he laid eyes upon him for even a moment longer. 

Luke heard his father sigh as much as his respirator would allow, followed by careful footsteps forward. 

“Son, I understand plenty.” Luke’s blood stopped cold in his veins. 

No. No, he couldn’t. 

How? 

Luke’s mind buzzed with a star system full of questions, but he forced his now trembling form to turn around and face his father. 

He looked right up at the mask, locking their identical, haunted blue eyes. 

“You...you do?” A solemn nod, and Vader rested his hands on Luke’s upper arms. 

“You are feeling vulnerable and at fault for this attack.” 

Luke held his gaze as a silent wave of relief washed over him- he didn’t know about Ziggora. 

“Ye...yeah,” he stumbled, bitter humor lacing his tone with a light tinge of disappointment. “I...uh, yeah.” 

Vader tentatively rubbed his hands up and down Luke’s biceps, again trying to show an ability to soothe. 

“Child,” Vader said softly, bringing up a hand to brush his thumb over Luke’s heated cheek. “You understand this attack was in no way your fault, nor do I think any less of you because of its occurrence?” 

Now Luke’s throat began to constrict. No, no. He couldn’t lose it- not now. 

He could only nod as he shifted his gaze to the vase on the railing, catching an unwanted glimpse of himself in its polished material as he ran warnings to himself through his head. His throat continued to tighten. 

“You will persevere through this, young one. Sooner than you realize, you will be back to normal.” 

Luke froze as he replayed those words in his head, trying to convince himself he misheard them. He blinked, gaining the courage to look up at his father as his fear dropped in a flash. 

“What?” 

Vader ran his hand over Luke’s shoulder, apparently blatantly unaware of the falsehood in his statement- not just for Luke, but for any survivor of trauma. 

“I know it to be true, Luke, and once the process is complete, you will be back to yourself again.” 

Again, Luke could only blink, staggering back out of his father’s hold. The process? Complete? Did he think this was some broken starship that needed rewiring? 

Of  _ course  _ he didn’t understand, and his systematic thought process would never allow him to do so. Although Luke wouldn’t have accepted his help anyway, his worst fear hit him like a ton of rocks: he was in this alone- all alone, and he’d been a fool to believe otherwise. 

“Son?”

An asteroid seemed to plummet from the top of his head to the pit of his stomach, leaving a resounding, echoing emptiness in his gut. Shock bled to anger as he repeated the words; alone, absolutely alone.

“Luke?” 

He didn’t realize how knotted his fists had become until his father reached out his own hands to gently coax them to relax; however, Luke jerked his hands away, feeling his heart hammer in his chest with fury and panic. 

“Luke, speak to me.”

He couldn’t- his muscles tensed in ways he didn’t even realize were possible. His jaw suddenly ached as he realized how tightly he had been clenching it. He turned away, claustrophobia closing in as he realized he was just about pinned between his father and the railing, too tight to breathe. 

“Luke, calm down-”

“Just stop!” he snapped. His breath came in choppy heaves as he fought back the images flashing behind his eyes, the deep baritone of his father’s voice drowned out under the whirlwind of intense emotion. 

“Luke-”

“No!” The only option he saw in front of him was to run, to escape the small space, the strong hands...

In one swift, hurried motion, Luke ducked out from under his father’s impending grasp and paced in the given direction as fast as his legs would carry him. His vision became blurry as he tried to blink away the rapidly-forming tears.

Everything was loud,  _ incredibly  _ loud: thud of his heart in his ears, his own ragged breathing, and the hiss of his father’s disrupted respirator rhythm far behind him. 

But all was silenced by a sudden, sharp crash of glass to the cement, and a shrieking gasp from Luke’s lips. Even the animals in the forest hushed as the air fell totally silent, a striking contrast to the whirlwind assaulting him mere seconds before. 

Luke peeked his eyes open tentatively to see what the hell just happened, but not without first raising his arms in defense. 

The vase. He broke the vase on the balcony railing. He knocked it right over, sending it crashing down to the unforgiving stone right in front of him. 

Luke kept his head fixed down to the scattered, chalky bits, unable to move a muscle. 

“Luke?” 

His lip quivered, and his vision blurred with tears before he could combat the overwhelming emotion.

Luke buried his face in his hands, collapsed to the ground, and began to cry. 

What began as small sniffles grew into brutal, gut-wrenching sobs. The desperate gasps for air between his wails pierced the still silence with shattering strength. He was far past the point of control, reduced to a quivering heap on the hard ground. 

A moment later, he felt a gloved hand on his shoulder.

“Luke,” he heard his father say gently. He could only gasp in response, trying so desperately to force air into his lungs. 

“I...I’m-” Luke choked, his words muffled by his own hand clasped over his mouth. 

“Son-”

“I’m sorry,” he burst out, tears now streaming down his face in twin streaks. Although surely stunted at first, Vader carefully rubbed his hand over Luke’s shoulder. 

“You have nothing for which to be sorry, Luke,” he assured. “The vase is of no matter.” 

“But...but I broke it,” Luke blubbered. 

“It is repairable. Look, we still have all the pieces.” 

“How?” He still felt the tentative hand stroke his shoulder as he shook. 

“Child, once it is repaired, it will still function as a vase, will it not?” Luke nodded, mopping his face with his sleeve as he sniffled. “Then what lessens its value?” He fell silent for a moment as he kept his head turned from his father. 

“The cracks,” he whispered. The hand on his shoulder stilled a moment, then carefully patted him. 

“Come,” Vader said. “Let us bring you inside.” With a small sigh of defeat at the lack of a response to his statement, proving its truth all the more, Luke allowed his father to help him to his feet. For a moment, he could only feel his father’s gaze upon his features, although he still kept his own eyes averted. 

In a swift motion before they began to walk inside, Vader pulled Luke into his chest, assuming a protective grip on his small form. 

And Luke had no choice but to acquiesce to the rising emotion that once again rose from his core. 

He was only partially aware of the generic reassurances articulated through his father’s deep baritone as he ran a hand over his hair, for all Luke’s attention was focused on how in the hell was he going to do this. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by! Please consider leaving kudos and/or commenting :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO MUCH for reading! I just want to make a few things clear before you go:
> 
> Seeing Vader's actions above, I'm sure you noticed they were less than ideal. I believe some of Vader’s actions and responses to this situation are NOT appropriate, especially in these first few chapters. As we all know, Dad Vader tries his hardest to help Luke when in distress, but sometimes ends up making the situation worse and hurting Luke unintentionally. This is a case with a serious issue which he royally aggregates and intensifies, although still without meaning to do so. I want to make it clear that I do not condone his words, nor do I see them as appropriate to say to a survivor of sexual assault. The responses and actions I wrote for Vader are purely how I saw his character handle such a situation, not for the purpose of in any way promoting them as appropriate or making a commentary on survivors.
> 
> If there’s anything you find inaccurate or misrepresented in this fic, please let me know. I conducted a great deal of research whilst writing this story and reading about the experiences of others, but I know I cannot fully understand this kind of trauma having not experienced it myself. I don’t wish to offend anyone with my ignorance, so if something is out of place or misrepresented, please send me a message to help me understand and I will fix my errors.
> 
> Lastly, as a fic author, I AM SO SORRY. This was another idea that just started out as a passing thought but didn’t let go until I gave in and wrote it. I really put Luke through the wringer, but I promise it will be okay. The trauma takes place before the beginning of the story, so you’ll find his journey of healing (Convalescence, if you will ;)) to follow.
> 
> THANK YOU!!!


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